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Anxiety, Acceptance
Wednesday night I talked to my dad on the phone. He told me that my [maternal] grandmother had had a heart attack. He didn't tell me how severe, but said that she was still in the nursing home. He also said that I would probably want to come to Daingerfield before I left, to see her, in case she wasn't alive when I returned. Thursday I left straight from work for Daingerfield and met my parents at the nursing home. She was lying in bed, half-propped up, on oxygen, and her breathing was labored. I stayed about an hour and a half, and then left.
What can I say? I couldn't understand, when I was talking with my dad, why they didn't move her to a hospital if her heart attack was that severe. After seeing her, I think I understand. It was a severe heart attack. She was stable, but she's not likely to recover from it. She could die at any time, or linger for weeks. Why cause her more stress?
What can I say? I was anxious all of Thursday, debating whether to go on my trip or cancel it. My mom told me to go. She was stable, and if she died, there was nothing I could do anyway. So I went.
On the way to the airport, something my mom told me long ago--and continues to repeat to this day--coupled with something![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hoya99 said to me on Thursday night, as I was talking to him about this, made me realize something. My mom has always said that she does not want to be a burden to me. I think, having seen what disease and time can do to strong people, and knowing that I am an only child, I think she has decided that she does not want to tie my life down in some form of obligation or duty. She has said to me so many times that if she gets sick, to stick her in a nursing home and leave her there.
hoya99 crystallized that for me by asking me what I thought my grandmother would want. I've never been very close to her, so at first I couldn't tell him. I didn't know. She's Victorian in her morals, and the idea of me spending a weekend in a NoVa hotel with my sweetie is probably not something she would approve of. But, then I thought about what my mom said, and I realize that that goes for grandchildren, too.
And I realized something else. Those of you who have read my journal from the beginning know that I went through a very hard time some years ago now. I realized that what I went through then would help me now.
I know my grandmother is going to die. In the abstract, sooner or later we all will. But now I know, she will die soon. How soon is soon, I do not know. But I do know that this is her time; this heart attack is the beginning of the end for her.
I hope she will last to see my wedding. I'm already anticipating the grief of her loss. Although we are not and have not been close, in losing her I will lose my only living grandparent. I already feel the burden of my mother's grief. And there is a bond, I think, for women, from mother to daughter, and from grandmother to mother to granddaughter. For good, or for ill, there is something there. And this loss will come soon. Tomorrow, next week, next month, I don't know. But after the grief, there will be a life to live.
My [maternal] grandfather's death, ironically enough, was a major step for me on my path to healing from my bad time. He was a fighter, and I realized at his death that I would dishonor his memory, if I let myself quit. Now, anticipating the grief to come, I can see that even so, when the grief too dies away, the life I live afterward will be something my grandmother wanted, even if she never knows it, even if she never said anything to me about it.
The only gift we can give our parents and grandparents is to go on. To not let ourselves be tied to our pasts. To not linger in the grief, weighed down by the burden. Grief is natural and cleansing, but beyond that, life must continue, otherwise what was the point of giving birth in the first place?
Life is a journey. But the journey is larger and greater than just one life. The life that I am living did not begin with me, and it will not, I hope, end with me. My life is a continuation of my mother's, and my grandmothers', and my father's, and my grandfathers', and the greatest tribute I can make to their gift of life within me is to live it.
So I went to NoVa, and enjoyed my weekend, of which more later, and when I came back, my grandmother was still alive. And is still alive. And so we wait, she and I, and my mother and aunts and uncles. But life does go on. So I plan my wedding, hoping she will be there, but knowing that even if not, she will be there inside me.
What can I say? I couldn't understand, when I was talking with my dad, why they didn't move her to a hospital if her heart attack was that severe. After seeing her, I think I understand. It was a severe heart attack. She was stable, but she's not likely to recover from it. She could die at any time, or linger for weeks. Why cause her more stress?
What can I say? I was anxious all of Thursday, debating whether to go on my trip or cancel it. My mom told me to go. She was stable, and if she died, there was nothing I could do anyway. So I went.
On the way to the airport, something my mom told me long ago--and continues to repeat to this day--coupled with something
hoya99 said to me on Thursday night, as I was talking to him about this, made me realize something. My mom has always said that she does not want to be a burden to me. I think, having seen what disease and time can do to strong people, and knowing that I am an only child, I think she has decided that she does not want to tie my life down in some form of obligation or duty. She has said to me so many times that if she gets sick, to stick her in a nursing home and leave her there.hoya99 crystallized that for me by asking me what I thought my grandmother would want. I've never been very close to her, so at first I couldn't tell him. I didn't know. She's Victorian in her morals, and the idea of me spending a weekend in a NoVa hotel with my sweetie is probably not something she would approve of. But, then I thought about what my mom said, and I realize that that goes for grandchildren, too.And I realized something else. Those of you who have read my journal from the beginning know that I went through a very hard time some years ago now. I realized that what I went through then would help me now.
I know my grandmother is going to die. In the abstract, sooner or later we all will. But now I know, she will die soon. How soon is soon, I do not know. But I do know that this is her time; this heart attack is the beginning of the end for her.
I hope she will last to see my wedding. I'm already anticipating the grief of her loss. Although we are not and have not been close, in losing her I will lose my only living grandparent. I already feel the burden of my mother's grief. And there is a bond, I think, for women, from mother to daughter, and from grandmother to mother to granddaughter. For good, or for ill, there is something there. And this loss will come soon. Tomorrow, next week, next month, I don't know. But after the grief, there will be a life to live.
My [maternal] grandfather's death, ironically enough, was a major step for me on my path to healing from my bad time. He was a fighter, and I realized at his death that I would dishonor his memory, if I let myself quit. Now, anticipating the grief to come, I can see that even so, when the grief too dies away, the life I live afterward will be something my grandmother wanted, even if she never knows it, even if she never said anything to me about it.
The only gift we can give our parents and grandparents is to go on. To not let ourselves be tied to our pasts. To not linger in the grief, weighed down by the burden. Grief is natural and cleansing, but beyond that, life must continue, otherwise what was the point of giving birth in the first place?
Life is a journey. But the journey is larger and greater than just one life. The life that I am living did not begin with me, and it will not, I hope, end with me. My life is a continuation of my mother's, and my grandmothers', and my father's, and my grandfathers', and the greatest tribute I can make to their gift of life within me is to live it.
So I went to NoVa, and enjoyed my weekend, of which more later, and when I came back, my grandmother was still alive. And is still alive. And so we wait, she and I, and my mother and aunts and uncles. But life does go on. So I plan my wedding, hoping she will be there, but knowing that even if not, she will be there inside me.
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